The cretin.
He sauntered over to help her dismount. As he reached for her, his hands lingered on her waist. “It’s about time you got here.”
She wanted to be angry. “I shouldn’t even talk to you.”
“You’re just mad because I beat you.”
“Hardly.”
He crossed his arms. “So when should I expect to see my wager fulfilled? Today? Tomorrow? I must say I’m rather looking forward to seeing you dripping wet.”
As he wagged his eyebrows at her, she rolled her eyes. Did she say he was kind? She must have meant horrible…
Mara ignored him as she walked toward the abandoned cabin that sat at the edge of a line of trees. She tilted her head and studied the worn planks of wood and the thatched roof that was starting to cave in from neglect. The front door hung partway off of its hinges, and she could only imagine what sort of vermin might have taken up residence in her absence.
The worn steps creaked as she peered inside. A gust of wind blew up several leaves and cast them about in disarray, but even though so much decay was readily visible now, Mara could easily picture the cabin as it had been.
When her father hadn’t been tending to the flowers and plants in the small greenhouse or arboretum near the manor, he had sat in the corner near the fireplace in a simple rocking chair. With a pipe up to his lips and that mangy mutt Rufus at his feet, he had portrayed a rather domestic scene. When she wasn’t tending to her own duties and they found a moment alone together, they would usually drag out a deck of cards or a chess set and chat in companionable silence.
But even in those rare instances, Lily would always intrude on their solitude, like a constant ax above their heads. Mara knew her father had always felt guilty for her older sister’s behavior. For some reason, he felt he’d let down their mother by allowing her irrational manner to continue without having the foresight to send her to a hospital with the first onset of trouble. Mara always regretted that he’d never got to see her once more before he died, and yes, some part of her resented Lily for staying away so long until it was too late.
“I hope this isn’t just some ploy to let you out of our wager, because I must confess I was rather looking forward to gloating a bit longer over my victory.”
“What?” When she turned, Roarke handed her a handkerchief. Mara blinked, for she hadn’t realized she’d been crying.
“I suppose some ghosts refuse to rest,” she said wryly.
“Perhaps,” Roarke replied slowly, “But then, I think sometimes we have to face the past so that we can move on with our future.”
Mara digested his words for a moment before he placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to go?”
She couldn’t help but snuggle into that strong warmth. “Just give me a minute?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Take as long as you need.”
Alone once more, Mara rubbed the chill from her arms that Roarke’s body had left behind. She made her way about the small cabin but was careful to watch her step until she finally made her way back outside to join Roarke. He was rummaging about in a satchel that was slung over his horse.
“Thank you.”
He glanced up. “Anytime. We all need a few minutes to clear our soul.” With a brief clearing of his throat, she wondered if maybe he might have said more than he’d intended, but that rakish demeanor was back soon enough. “So, are you ready to pay up?”
She threw her hands up in surrender. “Lead the way, my lord.”
* * *
A half hour later, Mara dipped one toe in the water and shivered. Stripped down to her shift and corset, her underskirts and dress tossed over a nearby rock on the beach, she turned back to Roarke with a pleading glance. She didn’t care if she begged at this point. That water wascold.“Are you really going to make me do this?”
“Would you have taken pity on me and let me off the hook?”
“Of course.” And although she managed to say it with a straight face, she couldn’t quite look him in the eye.
“You always were a terrible liar,” he chuckled.
“And I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” she shot back irritably.
He shrugged. “Be that as it may, surely you don’t want to be known about London as that haberdashery shop owner who couldn’t even keep one little wager—”
Her squeal effectively cut off the rest of his words. She’d turned and dove right into that frigid water and cursed Roarke to the depths as she did so. She knew he wouldn’t be happy unless she was fully submerged, so with a deep breath, she went completely under the crashing waves.
